Prelude
by Rockabella Suzy
Summary: Moriarty origin story (sort of). A prelude to a master criminal conducted by a love affair. Moriarty/OC
1. Chapter 1

_Authors Note: Just a little something that's been swimming in my brain lately. Sorry about the info dump. Will write more depending on demand and stuff. Enjoy!_

_A Treatise on the Binomial Theorem_… James watched the cursor blink at the end of his thesis header, unsatisfied with his choice of title. If anything, it was apt; a simple title for a simple paper. His lecturer had said regarding the thesis at the start of the year, "You can either write a hard subject poorly, or an easy subject well. Do whichever will earn you the most marks."

All math came easy to James. He chose a subject that would be easier for the examiners to grade and hence worth more marks. But typically, for all his complex, algebraic scrawling a more sophisticated title failed him.

His phone vibrated on the desk next to his keyboard. The name "Kathy" appeared on the screen. He had made lunch plans with her today, and even though he set the reminder on his phone, she sent him a confirmation text message anyway.

"_The usual?_" it read. He exhaled a short huff of amusement. They were only seeing each other for two months and they already had a '_usual_' eating place.

"_There in five_." he texted back before tapping CTRL S on his keyboard repeatedly.

It was shortly after two o' clock when James arrived at the café. The lunch hour rush had evidently passed and most of the available tables were littered with used napkins and empty plates. He spotted Kathy who was reading alone in the corner that was most coveted for its sofa seating.

James first met Kathy on a class night out he was forced to attend. He was never one for socialising and could never really get into college culture. It was one particular peer, one who insisted on being his friend, that urged him to do so.

"Sure you'll go for one," was the unrelenting mantra James was inflicted with until he acquiesced.

_Sure why not? _James had said to himself. _Let's give this being normal thing a whack._

Normal, however, was something that James never really got the hang of and so it wasn't long before he grew bored of his class night out. And then he met Kathy, a psychology student as it turned out - bright, nerdy and as far from normal as he was. They began conversation on their mutual distaste for nightlife and the rest as they say is history.

Kathy, as if sensing his presence, looked up from her book and flashed a smile. James smiled back and went to sit next to her. She was wearing a white blouse with black corduroy shorts, white knee-highs and clunky black shoes. Her small face was adorned by large, thick framed glasses and her fine, chocolate hair was tied up in her usual ponytail. If anything, she was a sweet girl. Initially she tried to sell herself as 'not like the other girls' unwittingly exposing her low self-esteem but James enjoyed her company and it was all he cared about. At least he cared two months ago when their relationship was fresh and exciting, but as with everything else, James was growing bored. He had scolded himself for being fussy. Making friends was hard enough when he was too different from everyone else. There was nothing wrong with Kathy, but to James the relationship felt hollow, like some sort of social obligation to appear normal. But James clung onto it for now, hoping it would improve in some way.

"How's the thesis coming?" Kathy asked cheerfully as she pecked his cheek.

"Formulae are imprinted on the inside of my eyelids," he drawled, "But it's getting there. How've you been?"

Kathy could talk for Ireland. It was only after they finished eating lunch and started eating dessert that James realised he hadn't gotten a word in since he asked the question.

"…which leads me to believe…" she paused suddenly then. Mild panic tugged at his brain as he tried to remember what it was she was talking about to begin with…something about her studies…? He glanced at her. Her expression was curious and one finger pressed firmly against a tight smile.

"What?" he stated cautiously as if he were under scrutiny.

"James," she whispered and glanced around carefully. James imitated her and concluded that no one was within ear-shot.

"What?" he said again, through a nervous half-laugh.

She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing as she took a deep breath.

"I think…" she started, but stopped and tried again, "I was wondering…have you ever killed someone?"


	2. Chapter 2

James choked on his cheesecake.

"Say that again?" he rasped, taking a drink of coffee to wash down the biscuit that lodged in his throat. Kathy faltered, her face turning red.

"Uh…" she stammered, "That didn't quite come out right."

"You just asked me-" James looked around and back and lowered his voice, "if I had _killed _someone."

Kathy hesitated and appeared to be thinking carefully.

"Yes." she stated eventually.

James couldn't tell whether this was an educated guess or whether she knew something about his past. Typical psychology students, always trying to apply text-book material to the people around them. But James had not counted on Kathy to get into his head like this and wondered what her intent was. He responded with silence, imploring her to elaborate.

"Well, I mean it's just that-" Kathy motioned awkwardly with her hands, unable to finish the sentence.

"You think I'm a killer," James responded bluntly, his eyes staring coldly.

Kathy opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. No, she was done. She had nothing on him. James was a little surprised to find that he was disappointed. Without a word, he dropped a twenty on the table and left the café.

He had thought about ending it with Kathy before. At least now she would think that she was in the wrong, that the break-up would be her fault. No skin off his back. It was fun while it lasted.

"James!" He heard Kathy call after him as he turned onto a quiet street. She caught up, walking backwards in front of him until he stopped.

"Get out of my way," he calmly warned.

"No, hold up," she said, a new confidence in her voice, "I know you think I'm crazy but hear me out."

James shifted impatiently but let her speak. He was interested.

"I just…I just want you to know that you can be yourself around me," said Kathy with a reassurance in her tone, "And I've noticed that you're not yourself. Ever. You hide behind this socially acceptable façade constantly. But I can see pass that. I know who you really are, James, and I'm… I'm ok with that."

"And how would you know," he said quietly, "who I really am?"

She smirked with a tilt of her head and whispered, "I can spot a psychopath from across the room. Like I spotted you that night at the bar."

"And you think I've killed people."

"I've noticed that some people around you tend to die. Tragically. Accidentally."

James tried to figure out what her angle was.

"Are you worried you'll meet the same fate?" he replied, his eyes locked on hers.

"Oh I'm not afraid of you," said Kathy, "I was only wondering would you be willing to kill again?"

"Jesus, Kathy." He turned away disgusted. He knew she had few loose screws in that head of hers but he didn't expect this. He hadn't pegged her as disturbed, morbid, with a lust for killers and what they could do. He didn't need this. He was not about to be someone's pet psychopath.

"I'm in trouble, James," said Kathy, her tone melancholy, "I need your help. You're the only one I can trust."

"You think I'm a killer and you trust me?" he cried.

"With this, yes. I owe money. A lot of money. At this point my life is in danger."

_Christ, James, you sure can pick them_, he said mentally.

"I can give you money," he offered.

"No," Kathy shook her head with a tight smile, "This is a drug dealer we're talking about. Once I pay up he's going to expect me to come back for more. He expects my regular custom. I thought my bad credits would put him off me but it didn't work. I need him out of my life. Permanently."

James ran a hand over his face and sighed inwardly. At least Kathy had been right when she said she wasn't like the other girls. She was far too trusting of him knowing what she knew. Anyone else would have run a mile, but Kathy saw her position as an opportunity. It was the trust that made him wary, though. She had either deluded herself into thinking he cared that much about her or she was using him for her own gain. Both notions concerned him and he knew he had to exercise caution.

"So what do you say?" Kathy asked carefully, "About my problem? Can you fix it for me?"


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's Note: I realise that the opening paragraph here should have been in the previous chapter but because of the POV switch I had to put it in this one so as not to confuse anybody. Also the rating went up in this chapter just FYI ;)**_

"I don't think we should see each other anymore." said James.

Kathy's face fell. _Shit! _

"What?" she whimpered, disappointment sank like a stone in her chest.

"I can't," he said, shaking his head and walking away, "I can't do this." He hailed a passing taxi.

"James, wait!" she cried, briskly following, "James!"

He hopped into the taxi and slammed the door just as she reached him. He wouldn't even look at her.

"Dammit!"

_Stupid, Kathy, stupid! _She scolded herself as the taxi drove out of sight. She pulled out her phone but stopped herself before she could call him. No. He'll come back. He's interested, he'll come back.

One agonisingly long week had passed and James had not made contact since the last time they spoke. Kathy decided to throw in the towel and try to make amends for her mistake. She stood outside the apartment building in which he was residing and buzzed his flat. An apathetic "Yo!" hissed through the static. Kathy had only been here a few times before but she recognised his roommate's voice.

"Is James home?" she spoke through the intercom.

"Yeah."

"Can you let me in?" The heavy, metal door opened with a click.

"Christ sake, Derren, you're lucky I'm not a serial killer or anything," she muttered to herself as she entered the building. James' flat was on the third floor and the door was left unlocked, presumably so that Derren's girlfriend could come and go as she pleased. As she entered she was hit with the unmistakeable stench of weed. Derren, scruffy and skinny, sat in front of the TV with one arm around a blonde girl and holding a joint in his free hand. The flat was a dive. James said that he had given up trying to keep it clean as Derren's lack of hygiene made it almost impossible.

The couple didn't so much as glance as Kathy as she crossed the living area and into the hallway towards James' room. His door was shut, nothing but silence came from the other side. She knocked.

"What?" came the blunt reply.

Kathy let herself inside. The bedroom was remarkably impeccable in comparison to the rest of the flat. James was seated at his desk with his back to the door, typing busily on his laptop.

"Hi," Kathy said meekly. James paused and visibly sighed before continuing his typing.

"I'm sorry," said Kathy as she took a step closer, "I was way out of line. I should never have put you in that position. Your past is your past and it's none of my business and I'm sorry I brought it up. I was an idiot, ok? Can we forget that this every happened and go back to the way things were?"

Kathy wrung her hands in agitation. James continued to work quietly. His silence frustrated her.

"Please, James? We're good together. And I don't make friends easily but with you everything is easy. And I know you feel the same. At the end of the day all we have is each other. I want this to happen, I want us to work."

Without a word, James shut his laptop and stepped passed her towards the door. Her heart sank.

"James, I'm sorry!" she said pleadingly, "At least talk to me."

Instead of leaving the room like she thought he would, he shut the door and stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her body. His dark eyes stared at her through the wardrobe mirror before them. Kathy's heartbeat increased. His touch sent a warmth through her stomach but his glare chilled her to the bone.

"Are you sorry?" he murmured, his breath on her ear giving her goose bumps.

"Yes," her voice quivered as his hand ran down her side.

"It won't happen again?"

She picked up an underlying danger in his voice. He was exhibiting dominance. Good, she thought. She could work with this.

"I promise." Her last syllable was cut short by a gasp as James' hand moved up her tartan skirt and plunged beneath her underwear, his fingers meticulously working the already moistened area. James used one foot to spread her legs apart so that he had better access. This was the first time they had engaged in any sexual activity besides kissing. Given his condition, James' actions not only fascinated Kathy, but also sparked arousal in her. It was evident that he already had sexual experience and favoured the role of the dominant over the submissive judging by the way he trapped her tightly against his body while stimulating her. Through the mirror she could see him watching her, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Everything about him said control.

All thought dropped from Kathy's mind as the sensation between her thighs intensified. She wanted to cum, but every time she reached the edge James would pull her back by changing his pace. It was torment. She could feel his erection press against her lower back and the thought that he desired her drove her insane.

It only took a split second for James to drop his guard in which Kathy spun to face him, desperately undoing his jeans. He caught her by the mouth as she lunged forward, causing him to fall into a seated position on the bed. Kathy wrapped her legs around his torso and used one hand to move her thong aside to allow his erection inside her. She fell into him, stealing the dominant role from him as she trapped his wandering hands by his sides so she could concentrate on finishing. With her arousal at its peak and the strained thong stimulating her already sensitive clit, it didn't take long for her to climax. The sensation exploded inside her. The cries that escaped her throat were strangled to a whisper as her whole body tensed. A few small pelvic thrusts to extend the sensation and she was done. She collapsed forward like a rag doll, her head resting on his shoulder. For a long moment they remained in that position until James kissed her neck and she raised her head to meet his gaze. He appeared to have an amused expression on his face. Kathy, as if just realising what they had done, blushed deeply. This was their first time with each other and Kathy felt a little embarrassed having exhibited that much intimacy with him. This seemed to amuse James even more. She cleared her throat and disentangled herself from him.

"Oh," she said realising that her contractions must have caused him to finish inside her, "Sorry about the mess."

James shrugged dismissively. "It's laundry day, anyway," he said. He stepped over to the laundry basket by the wardrobe and began removing his dampened clothes.

Kathy wasn't sure what to say. Were they ok now? What was going through his mind? Did she really want to know?

"So…" she began, thinking carefully about her next few words. James glanced at her and she realised then that this was the first time she had ever seen him naked. _Wow_.

"So…?" he prompted her to finish her sentence. She decided that she didn't need to say anymore, at least not in that moment.

"You want to go again?" she asked, her stomach swirling with heat again as he approached her.

"I'll need a moment to reload," he replied mischievously.

"I don't," she said.

He smirked and they kissed deeply before starting all over again.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's Note: For the pedantic reader please note I am being slightly liberal with the timeline here. Moriarty is roughly in his early to mid twenties and the year is early to mid 00's. **_

They spent much of the afternoon experimenting and exploring each other. James never really believed that one could be "good at sex" per se. One could know the basics and alter known techniques based on the other person's preference. It usually took time for a couple to get to know each other intimately unless they were sexually compatible off the bat. He and Kathy however just clicked. Kathy was fun, vivacious, and James immensely enjoyed fighting her for dominance. People he had been with before were mostly passive, but Kathy was a challenge much to his delight.

They had been lying together in silence for some time now, the room growing dark with the approaching evening. Kathy had draped herself across his body, her head resting on his chest. She was exhausted and trembling from their arduous activities. Her pony-tailed hair had come loose at some point and James' fingers ran through her tresses, gently massaging her scalp, to which she moaned softly in appreciation.

"I was 11," said James unprompted.

"Hm?" Kathy responded absently.

"When I first killed someone."

Kathy looked at him lazily.

"Carl Powers." she affirmed.

A mirthless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"How much do you know?" he asked, deadpan.

"As much as the obituaries do," she replied with a shrug. He gave her a look.

"Ok so after we met I might have done a little research," she said defensively, "Don't take it personally, I just have trust issues. And I like learning about people. It's what I do. People fascinate me."

"I'm more concerned about how you came to the conclusion that I had anything to do with Carl Powers' death."

Kathy, in her usual manner, spoke quickly and animatedly.

"Oh. Well I didn't at first. Well I _did _think 'huh, that's a little weird that an athletic swimmer drowned in a swimming pool'. But then I noticed that _other _people you happened to know also mysteriously died, including a secondary school teacher and your parents. Combine that with the fact that you're kind of a psychopath and it's kind of a no-brainer."

"You think I'm a psychopath?" James replied feigning offence.

Kathy propped herself up on one elbow and grinned.

"When I asked you to kill someone, you ignored me for a week and then bonked me senseless. Psychopath is definitely a theory I'm running with."

"You're oddly at ease with that," James pointed out.

Kathy shrugged.

"I have to be," she replied, "If I held my own practice I'd have to listen to everybody's dirty little secrets. I can't really afford to care about that kind of stuff lest it affect my work."

"And you're not afraid of me?" James pushed, "Of what I could do to you?"

"Oh, no," Kathy replied with a crooked smile, "You like me too much."

He did like her but it didn't mean she was the exception. _Just don't give me a reason_, thought James. There was a moment of silence between them. Kathy absently traced a finger across James' bare chest before she spoke again.

"So 11, huh?" she said solemnly, "That's quite a young age for your first murder. How did it make you feel?"

James had to think about it. It wasn't triumph, the act itself was easy. It wasn't pride when he had achieved greater things. It wasn't joy, it was something stronger than that. He had removed a burden, he had taken a life and he had gotten away with it. Almost fifteen years had passed and there was still no link between him and his crime. He was untouchable.

"Powerful," he said eventually.

Kathy gazed at him, her small grey eyes revealing something akin to coveting…lust.

"I bet," she whispered and James was struck with a familiar trepidation all over again. She was fascinating, of that there was no doubt, but he couldn't quite figure her out and that unnerved him. He learned nothing more of her during their week apart and not from lack of trying. He decided to keep her close and keep her wanting. She was clearly comfortable with who he was and he would be fooling himself into thinking that she was just a misguided young woman with a lust for bad guys. Then again, maybe this was the excuse he told himself to continue the relationship. Maybe he actually had feelings for her. He couldn't decide.

"I'm hungry," Kathy said after stomach audibly rumbled, "Wanna order pizza?"

"No," James replied and Kathy's face fell. "Go home. Clean yourself up. I'm taking you _out _for pizza."

Kathy grinned and sprung up, searching for her assorted garments that had been tossed in various directions during the throes of this evening's passions. James picked her glasses from the nightstand and waved them in front of her.

"Yes," she said as she took them, her face more familiar now as she slid them on, "These might help me find my clothes."

James threw on a pair of slacks and grabbed a towel from his wardrobe in preparation for a shower.

"So where are we going?" Kathy asked, hopping into one of her knee-highs, "Pizza Hut?"

James grimaced.

"Not a fan of salmonella," he replied, "No, somewhere a bit nicer. I suggest you wear your best."

"Oooh, somewhere fancy?"

"You'll see," he teased, planting a kiss on her mouth.

When she was fully dressed he saw her to the door.

"Text me when you're ready and I'll come meet you," he said.

"Kay," she replied, a smitten grin on her face, and she disappeared down the corridor.

James shut the door behind her and turned to find Derren giving him a thumbs up and a nod of approval. He discretely rolled his eyes.

"I'm taking a shower," he said, "Don't run any water while I'm in it."

"Oh, Jimbo, before you head," Derren called after him, "It's the missus' birthday this week, we were thinking of throwing a party here. It's just a small thing, no biggie, but if you're here you can invite your own posse or whatever. We're cool with that."

"Right," James nodded tersely.

_God, give me patience_, he pleaded silently as he trod off to the shower.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's note: This chapter took me so long to write. I hate it =(**_

Kathy stood in front of the mirror, critically analysing her outfit. James had said to wear something fancy and the closest thing to fancy she had was an ankle length, champagne coloured dress cut to a sleeveless halter neck. She found it a year ago in a vintage clothes shop and had never had the occasion to wear it until now. It still fit which she figured was a good thing but she wasn't sure if it was 'fancy' enough. She had done her hair in an classic up-do, she replaced her glasses with contacts and as makeup was not her forte she kept it simple. She had butterflies, which she thought odd but reasoned that her relationship with James had changed today and things might feel a little weird. The doorbell rang and her stomach fluttered. She hastily made her way up the hall, her high heeled sandals pinching with each step. She opened the door to see James standing there, wearing an impeccably tailored suit, his hair slicked back with gel. She couldn't help but smile. James seemed to be inspecting her attire, his eyes trailing down the length of her dress and back up again.

"I think I prefer you with glasses," James politely commented.

"Oh, silly, you think I look this way for you?" She cooed.

His mouth curled in a lopsided smile and he offered an elbow to her.

"Shall we?"

They arrived at an Italian restaurant, one Kathy was unfamiliar with. From the moment they stepped inside she knew this place was well above her usual standards. They were greeted by a tuxedo clad man who carried a clipboard.

"Good evening folks. I'm afraid we're all booked out tonight unless you have a reservation."

"The name's Moriarty," said James.

The maître d' checked his clipboard and shook his head.

"No, doesn't look like we have you down."

James leaned closer to the man and spoke quietly, "Try the other list."

The maître d' glanced at him doubtfully but rechecked his clipboard.

"Ah, Mr. Moriarty, yes," he said a little flustered, "My apologies. Right this way." Kathy glanced inquisitively at James who responded with a wink.

They were brought to a private table on an alcove overlooking the main dining area. The table and chairs were of a dark wood, in keeping with the Mediterranean theme of the rest of the decor. James pulled out a chair for Kathy. She smiled slightly, taking a seat. She felt a finger lightly brush her arm as he passed her to take the seat opposite.

"Here are your menus." said the maître d' placing them on the table. "Someone will be with you in a moment."

"What was that?" Kathy hissed.

"What was what?" James replied flicking through his menu.

"That thing you did to get us up here. You're not a secret celebrity are you?"

James smiled as if entertained by the prospect.

"No," he said curtly, "I'm a regular here and they value my custom."

Kathy's stomach growled and she remembered just how hungry she was.

"Huh," said Kathy examining the rather expensive looking menu.

"Everything OK?" James asked, without looking up from his.

"My... Italian is rusty."

"The English descriptions are beneath the names of the dishes." There was amusement in his eyes now. This didn't help Kathy much. What the hell was a crostini?

"Yeah...I think I'll stick with pizza."

"I take it you don't do posh."

"You think?" Kathy gave him a look.

"Red or white?" he asked flicking through the wine menu.

"Oh you know me. If it has alcohol I'm easy."

"White it is."

Kathy observed her surroundings. It was difficult not to feel imposter syndrome here. She, from a rural upbringing, had trouble enough adapting to the many aspects of city life when she first moved many years ago. There were always so many new experiences to discover - this being one of them. She was so different from the clientele below her - all middle to upper class, mostly middle-aged, pristinely dressed. Why did James bring her here?

Kathy, realising she was being watched, suddenly caught James' gaze. She tried to hold back a smile.

"What?" he asked warily.

She burst into laughter.

"What?" he repeated contracting her infectious giggles.

"I think my last boyfriend brought me to Supermacs,"she said. "This is quite a dramatic difference."

"You should know, honey, I've always had a flare for the dramatic." Their conversation was silenced by the presence of a waiter. The waiter was a young, attractive man, probably in his mid to late twenties.

"Good evening, sir, madam, I will be your waiter tonight," he said. His manner was overly polite and Kathy surmised that he was making an effort to supress his D4 accent. The waiter proceeded to recite the specials.

"Have you decided on your order or will you need a few minutes?"

"The linguini and a bottle of the Pinot Grigio please." said James promptly, handing the waiter his menus. The young man hurriedly jotted down the order.

"And for you, madam?"

Kathy smirked at being referred to as 'madam'.

"Eh...Frutti di Mare," she pronounced deliberately, pointing at the menu.

"Very good, madam!" The sickeningly cheery waiter collected her menu and disappeared to the lower floor.

"He's having a bad week," said Kathy, once out of earshot.

"How'd you figure?"

"Well either he's that flamboyant all the time or he's overcompensating for previously poor customer service. You can tell by his body language. His friendliness is forced but he's also tense like he's trying not to make a mistake. Must have round up a few warnings from the boss this week." Kathy pursed her lips suddenly, realising she was speaking quickly as usual.

"Not bad," James said to her surprise, "Do read people like that all the time?"

"Not really. Only if it's really obvious, then it can't really be helped."

The conversation paused again as the waiter returned with breadsticks, wine and a jug of water. He asked if there was anything else they needed, to which James dismissed him.

"What about that couple down there?" James said, peering over the balcony at the lower floor.

"Oh we're playing this game are we?" Kathy replied, as she snatched a breadstick, "Ok. Em..." She followed James' gaze to a man and woman sitting at a central table, " Married. No kids. Or at least if they do I wanna know how she got a figure like that after pregnancy. She's talking about something exciting and he's not liking it. New job maybe? Would also explain no kids. Oh...yep, new job. Better paying than his. Haha, poor sod. Never seen a fella look more emasculated in my life."

She chomped her breadstick and sat back.

"How do you do that?," James asked, his expression depicting an amused curiosity.

"It's just my thing I guess," Kathy shrugged, "That's kinda why I got into psychology. People are interesting and I want to study them."

"And what about me? Can you read me?"

"Doesn't really count if I've been close to you this long."

"Then tell me something about myself I don't know."

Kathy's stomach rumbled painfully and she was starting to grow impatient for food. The conversation was a pleasant distraction however and her initial trepidation before meeting James this evening seemed to have disappeared.

"OK," she said, leaning forward with her elbows on the table, "You're egotistical but you know that already, psychopathic but in denial, very smart but you definitely know that, and very, very lonely."

James frowned.

"I choose to be alone," he replied sounding defensive.

"No you don't. You're alone because you can't find someone you can relate to. You can't find someone like you. No one understands you. I do though."

"How could you possibly?"

"Because I'm lonely too."

Something flickered in his expression just then, something Kathy couldn't quite distinguish. Was it surprise? Sadness? Anger? James fascinated her. His psychological condition was both text book and a blank page. He was both human and something else entirely. She had yet to figure out what that something else was, however.

The waiter arrived with their food just then. Kathy's eyes widened. The pizza she ordered was enormous and covered in various sea food. James was given a large bowl of pasta with salmon in some sort of cream sauce. Kathy waited until they were alone again to speak.

"This is the most topping I've ever seen," she hissed excitedly, "There's shrimp -shrimp- on my pizza!"

"You're adorable," James replied, a smirk tugging the corner of his mouth.

They ate in silence for a moment. Kathy struggled to eat the slices of her pizza conventionally as the weight of the toppings caused the base to collapse in her hand. She resigned to using a knife and fork which she found strange. All of this was strange to her.

"So tell me about your parents," she said suddenly, eager to break the silence.

James gave her a look.

"How long have you been waiting to ask that?" he replied.

"Oh since forever," she responded, observing the shrimp at the end of her fork.

"Not much to tell," James shrugged as he took a sip of wine, "I was raised in a boarding school for boys so I can't say we were close."

"Is that why you killed them? Bitter resentment for a childhood lost?" Kathy said, mockingly dramatic.

"Oh honey, that's a very disappointing deduction," he drawled, "I didn't know my parents enough to hate them. And besides if you bothered to research thoroughly you would know that I didn't actually kill my mother. She died of cancer before I left boarding school."

Kathy's instinct was to offer condolences but then she reminded herself who she was talking to.

"And your father?" she queried, eager to untangle this enigma of a man.

James sucked in a breath as if he were growing weary of the conversation.

"When my mother died he didn't want anything to do with me," he said, twirling pasta onto his fork, "I needed money for college so I swapped his angina pills for placebos and inherited his shipping company. So no love lost there if you were trying to pry a tortured soul out of me."

Something clicked in Kathy's head.

"You own a shipping company?" she said.

"Oh yes, I'm very rich. And I'm not just saying that to sleep with you."

Kathy hadn't initially pegged him as coming from money though some of it made sense when she thought about it.

"Isn't that..." she struggled to form the words, "...cheating?"

"No, not quite," James appeared to be reasoning with himself, "Technically the inheritance was mine anyway, I just didn't want to wait another decade or two for my oul lad to kick the bucket. I guess you could say I took a short cut."

He was cold, unfeeling. His logic out-weighed any sense of morality. He was a businessman.

"But then why bother go to college if you have all this money?" Kathy pried further.

"I wanted to do physics," he shrugged, "Maybe ease into the real world after being cooped up in a boarding school my whole life. Not a whole lot different on the other side however."

"Huh," Kathy mused, all her initial assumptions began to unravel in her mind. She felt she had every reason to be afraid of James but her curiosity, as always, overpowered her common sense.

"Anyway, enough about me," said James, "Tell me about your family."

"My family?" she laughed, incredulous he would ask. "I dunno... they're normal I guess. My da fixes cars or something and my ma stays at home. I have an older sister but I haven't seen her since she moved out. We don't talk."

"Why not?"

"We just don't get along. She's the girly girl and I'm the nerd. We have nothing to talk about."

"Do you still talk to your parents?"

"Mmm...not really. My sister was always the favourite. I just sort of existed in the background in comparison."

"Well now we're getting to the juicy parts," James said, suddenly animated, "Let me guess, teen rebel? Took drugs to get your parents' attention?"

Kathy laughed.

"Em...sort of I guess," she said, playing with her food, "I would have been about 15 or 16. I initially went to drugs as a cry for attention or whatever - psychotics if you must know."

"Brave."

"And the effects they had on me..." she smiled, recalling her first experience, "well let's just say that's how I got interested in psychology and the brain. I think I stopped caring what my parents thought of me at that stage because I found my calling."

"How long have you been using?"

"Uh..." Kathy sighed, unprepared for this intense Q&A, "I stopped in my final year before college. I needed the grades to study psychology so I put my head down and worked hard. Got a scholarship in the end."

"But you're still in debt to your dealer." The tables had turned in the conversation. James was trying to figure Kathy out, but she couldn't tell whether he was just making conversation or if there was a root to his interest.

"He didn't take my going cold turkey very well," she replied, feeling annoyed just thinking about it.

"You were sleeping with him," James stated bluntly.

Her eyes snapped up to his.

"How-?" she began but promptly resigned, "Yes, I was. He has been very lenient about my debt all things considered. That is until he saw us together. Since then he's been...less lenient."

Something occurred to her.

"You know this is our first date," she said, "Like, proper date. We've just been sort of...hanging out up to now."

"Indeed. I'm learning so much this evening."

"As am I."

He smiled at her from across the table and she smiled back bashfully, feeling the colour rise in her cheeks. There were a million warning signs flashing in her mind about this man and while she acknowledged them she couldn't help but be drawn by the undeniable chemistry between her and James.

"I wanted to mention-" James began before being interrupted by their waiter.

"Was everything ok for you?" he piped.

Something dark flashed across James' features before he forced them into a grin.

"Wonderful. As usual," he said, "Thank you."

The waiter proceeded to clear the table and left them with the dessert menus.

"You were saying?" Kathy said once they were alone.

"There will be a party happening at the apartment soon," said James soberly, "I want you to come."

Kathy narrowed her eyes in mock suspicion.

"I thought you weren't into parties," she teased.

"You should also bring your ex."

Kathy felt her heart stop.

"Why?" was all she could say.

"Because you have a problem," said James, "And I want to fix it."

"Uh..." Kathy stammered, taking a drink of water to clear her throat, "What...uh...what changed your mind?"

"I know what's it like to have someone bear over you like he does."

"And how...do you intend on...fixing my problem?" Kathy queried, choosing her words carefully.

He glanced up at her from his menu, his eyes dark and intimidating, and he held them on her for a moment.

"I haven't decided yet," he said casually, his gaze returning to the dessert menu.

Kathy wasn't sure how to feel just then. On the one hand, she desperately wanted to be rid of the debt that constantly loomed over her and break all ties to her ex. On the other, was she getting herself into more trouble for doing so?

"I don't think I want dessert," she said after a moment.

"Me neither," James smiled, the tone of the conversation suddenly changing back to pleasant. He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and dropped a credit card on the table. It wasn't long before the waiter returned to accept the payment and they were ready to leave. On the way out they met the maître d' that had greeted them earlier.

"Everything ok for you tonight I hope?" he asked them.

James gave Kathy a sly wink and said, "Perfect. Apart from the service."

"Was the service too slow?" the maître d' enquired, concern on his face as he started to write something on his clipboard.

"No, no, everything was done at a timely pace," James replied and features creased to depict g regret, "It was just the waiter...he had a bit of an attitude. And I know we all have our bad days but still..."

"Of course, sir," the man said, "I sincerely apologise. I'll add a discount to your next meal and we will look into the matter."

"You're very good. Thank you."

Once they stepped outside, Kathy punched James in the arm.

"You are so mean," she hissed, though she failed to show genuine scorn over her amusement.

"Yup," he replied, taking her hand in his.


End file.
